


The Muffin Incident

by Damalia (Achrya)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bertholdt did not ask to be involved in this, Explicit Language, Jean is amused, M/M, Marco is overdramatic, Reiner is a dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 12:32:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6907369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Damalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco had fucked up. He wanted to blame it on his phone or the stupid coffee shop app or maybe fucking Reiner and his deeply inappropriate discussion topics but, at the end of the day, it was his fault. He was the one who had made the order. He was the one who’d failed to check what he’d written and hit send. </p><p>Or: A story about auto-fill failures and muffins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Muffin Incident

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OverMyFreckledBody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/gifts).



> There really isn't anything I can say to explain or justify this. Except that it's sort of based on a true event. Maybe if you ask OMFB what exactly took place....  
> A little light Reibert.

Marco had fucked up. He wanted to blame it on his phone or the stupid coffee shop app or maybe fucking Reiner and his deeply inappropriate discussion topics but, at the end of the day, it was his fault. He was the one who had made the order. He was the one who’d failed to check what he’d written and hit send. 

“Cockslut muffin?” Reiner was grinning like the absolutely terrible person that he was as he handed him his phone back. “How the hell?”

Marco groaned and put a hand over his eyes. “I don’t know. I meant to type chocolate but…this. Because of last night.”

Reiner’s shiteating grin grew somehow wider. “That right? Perv.”

Marco gaped up at his friend in disbelief. He was the perv? He was the victim here, forced to endure Reiner’s random late night rant about how what he needed in his life was someone who was a total cockslut. Which, fine, Marco could see the allure but maybe there were other qualities Reiner might want to consider besides a willingness to touch his penis?

Reiner had gleefully informed him that he wanted not just someone willing but someone completely and utterly preoccupied with his dick. And with a great ass.

And this was where Marco had really messed up: he’d started responding to Reiner and mimicking his use of cockslut mockingly. Shouldn’t he at least want his cockslut to be smart? Maybe a cockslut with a sense of humor and goals? How about real cockslut ambition?

(Reiner had enjoyed that one because yes indeed, he wanted them to have cockslut ambition. Marco had pretty much walked into that. He had a lot of regrets.)

They'd gone back and forth for hours, Marco laughing himself to tears once or twice. And convincing his phone that cockslut was not only a real word but a word that should be auto-filled to if he typed C and maybe fat fingered an O after that.

As a result when he'd used the texting app for his coffee shop order like he had many many mornings before, intending to get a chocolate muffin with his coffee, he’d unthinkingly tapped cockslut and sent it off. 

He’d never messed it up before so he hadn't had a reason to check. If not for the automated confirmation text that had come through a few minutes later he wouldn't have noticed at all! In his defense chocolate was what would have normally been there.

It was a piss poor defense if Reiner’s laughter was anything to go by. 

“Doesn't that barista you want to be your-”

“Please don't.” Marco interpreted. For one they were walking down the street, less than a block from the shop in question, in public and for two he didn't need thoughts of sex and the super hot barista in his head right now. 

“Boyfriend. Is what I was going to say.” Reiner’s gold eyes were bright with mirth. “Of course. But he works mornings right?”

Marco sighed but didn't answer otherwise because yes, he (Jean, according to his nametag) did working mornings and yes, Marco maybe went to this shop every morning so he could ogle a little, and at some point he fully intended to ask him out like an adult and not just drool. Except now he'd accidentally texted in a message for one cockslut muffins and one large coffee so maybe he wouldn't ever ask him out. 

He was thinking maybe he shouldn't go at all. True the app had already deducted the money from the card associated with the account he'd set up but...maybe he could just not pick it up. He wouldn't miss the four dollars and, even if he did, his pride was worth more. 

But his name was on the account and he was a regular so it wasn't like he wasn't already ‘busted’, as it were. So it wasn't just a matter of skipping today, it was never showing his face again and finding a new place to get coffee so he didn't have to face his shame.

So much shame.

Which...maybe. The coffee was good and the muffins were, sadly, pretty damn amazing but...cockslut muffin. 

“Oh relax.” Reiner slapped him on the back; it was only a lot of practice staying on his feet under Reiner’s very enthusiastic gestures kept him from crumbling. It was not at all relaxing. “I’m sure they get weird autocorrect stuff and people who send in dumb shit just for the fun of it all the time. I bet they don't even mention it.”

“But those people aren't me. This is me looking like I talk about...you know. All the time or something. Or like I'm making some stupid perverted joke or something.”  Marco groaned; he wasn't sure what was worse. People thinking he just talked about cocksluts so much it popped up on his auto fill or that he was an idiot with a dumb sense of humor. 

They were outside of the shop, a homey looking place with plush armchairs and mismatched furniture and it was all very sweet and did not deserve to be a victim of Reiner’s filth. And neither did he.

“If you say so.” His flatmate shrugged at him. “I'm going to order like a normal person. You can just keep moping dramatically outside of you want.”

He sort of did want to do just that, sometimes soaking in misery was the only answer, and maybe it showed because in the end Reiner dragged him inside, grumbling about him being a child. Marco was feeling a real lack of sympathy from Reiner which was pretty unfair when he thought about it. Did he not at least deserve a pat on the back or something considering? 

The newer barista, an extremely tall guy who always seemed to be looking at the floor and mumbling, was standing behind the counter flipping through who looked like a textbook but jumped to attention when Reiner stepped up to order. Marco looked around as he headed to the other end of the counter, where filled orders always were, but didn't see Jean anywhere in sight (and it wasn't like it was a big shop or anything.)

Maybe he wasn't working. Maybe he'd be able to just get his order and only worry about the new guy thinking he was a weirdo.

Except when he got to the end of the counter there was nothing there. Which was weird, he'd never not had his coffee and muffin in its little bag, labeled with his name and waiting for him. But maybe there was a God and his order had somehow been lost? Because that would be appreciated. 

“Oh. Um, hold on.” The barista helping Reiner said then stepped turned around to push open the swinging door behind him. “Jean? That text order is here.”

Fuck his entire life. And Reiner’s. Stupid grinning Reiner who clearly wanted everyone else to be miserable because he'd broken up with his boyfriend last month. This was just a plot to make sure Marco was also unhappy, he could feel it in his bones. 

Or maybe that was his own mortification. It was hard to say.

The door swung open and there was Jean, the hot barista. Warm brown eyes behind dark framed glasses, a pierced eyebrow, messy ash blond hair, light amber skin, full lips that often quirked up into a sharp smile when they spoke, and what looked like it was probably a nice body under his all black uniform; Marco had memorized it all because he was a creep who spent almost as much time staring as he did drinking coffee. ...maybe this was his divine punishment for being two steps away from stalking?

Marco took a second to mourn what could have been if he'd ever worked up the nerve then forced himself to smile weakly. 

“Hi again.” Jean said as he beeline for their coffee machines. “Sorry about making you wait.”

“That's fine.” He mumbled back. Okay. Well. Maybe this was fine. He didn't feel like he was being judged as a jerk or a pervert or anything. It looked like Reiner had been right and he'd been worried for nothing. 

He hated when Reiner was right 

“One coffee, black.” Jean said as he pushed the lid onto the cup then handed it over. “And one cockslut muffin.”

He nearly dropped his coffee in surprise. Heat rushed up his face and he couldn't make himself reach out and take the decorative bag with his muffin in it from the smirking man in front of him. He hadn't said it loudly or with any inflection in his voice beyond the usual half-bored cheer but Marco was sure everyone in the shop was looking at them. 

Someone snorted then coughed loudly; Marco didn't need to look to know it was Reiner. 

Jean's sharp grin grew and the muffin bag was waved at him. “No? Because I was in the back all that time looking for the perfect one. I even heated it up so it would be warm and gooey inside.”

Marco would have sold his soul for the floor to suddenly split open so he could fall into a large bottomless pit. But, since that didn't seem like it was going to happen he reached out to take the bag, mumbling an apology. Before he could take the muffin, and retreat to die somewhere in shame, it was jerked out of reach. 

“Sorry? For what?” Jean cocked his head to the side and blinked at him. 

“Um. The...muffin. thing? I wasn't paying attention and-”

“No kidding.” An eyebrow quirked up. “It’s fine, I thought it was funny. Funnier than the stuff people usually text us when they want to be gross.” 

“Told you.” Reiner sing-songed as he sidled up next to him before leaning over the counter and dropping into a stage whisper. “He freaked out the entire walk here because he thought he might offend someone.” 

“I hate you.” Marco hissed. Jean’s lips pressed together as he made a snorting sound; Marco realized he was trying to hold back laughter. 

“My delicate sensibilities were pretty offended.” The muffin was moved back into grabbing range. “I’m not sure how chocolate became what it did but it was good for a laugh so. Don't worry about it “

Marco nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” 

“This is the part,” Reiner said, still in that loud whisper. “Where you ask him for his number.”

Why was Reiner this person? What had he done so terrible in a past life that had lead him to answering Reiner’s roommate ad in sophomore year? 

“Is it?” Jean asked. “I don't know. Not sure my mom would want me going out with a guy who has cockslut as part of his phone dictionary.” 

Marco has never been all that great at figuring out if he was being flirted with when it was actually happening but between the cheeky grin and laughing tone he was pretty sure he had this one figured out. He was also positive Reiner was never ever going to let him live this down. 

“It actually wasn't part of my dictionary before last night. Reiner is the one with cockslut ambitions.” 

Jean put a hand over his mouth but it didn't do much to muffle his laughter. Reiner, of course, looked like he'd never heard of the concept of shame and was nodding his agreement.

Marco hated him so much. From the very depths of his soul. 

“I guess its fine then.” Jean plucked the cup from his hands and hastily scrawled something on the side. Then, with a thoughtful look down to where the other barista was standing and once again looking at a book, wrote something else. The second message took a little longer and whatever it was seemed to inspire more barely held back laughter. 

Marco took the cup back and glanced down at it as Jean stepped away to get Reiner his order. There was a number in neat even print with ‘Jean’ signed under it in looping scrawl. He turned it to see what else was written and had to bit his lip not to laugh at the teeny letters as well as the message.

_ ‘My friend has a thing for big blonds. Not sure abt ckslut thing. Seems like the type tho.’ _

He looked up, wanting to say...something he hadn't worked out yet, but the tinkling of the bell above the door announced more customers coming in. When Jean came back it was with another small bag and an apologetic grin. “I think I actually have to work for real now but...I get off at 1 so if you wanted to text or call…” 

He let it hang there, an offer if Marco was interested. Which he absolutely was.

“Yeah. I will. Um. Thanks.” 

Jean nodded then winked. “Enjoy the muffin.”

They were outside, walking towards campus, before Reiner spoke. Marco was ready, had been mentally preparing himself for the inevitable teasing, I told you so's, and you owe me now's. He was ready to accept it all with a smile; this was officially a good day and nothing was going to ruin it. 

"So. That other guy there? The tall one? He was cute." 

Marco looked down at his cup again, very seriously considering all manner of petty revenge. "I thought you were swearing off everything except horny with a great ass." 

"Why can't he be all of those things? Don't limit him Marco." Reiner clucked at him disapprovingly. Marco found himself leaning very heavily towards 'petty'. "And smart. Did you see that book? _Inorganic Experimental Chemistry_. I don't even know what that is but I want to."

"You should look it up." Marco said before taking a sip of his coffee. Later. He would clue Reiner in later. After he talked to Jean.

Maybe. 

**Author's Note:**

> Jean and Bertl work in the most lax and not-busy college town coffee shop there ever was. ;)


End file.
